"The curse of the ageing population"

I read Cher's entry on her late grandmother a few weeks back. It was a beautiful remembrance, as if a photograph was taken at that point of time because everything she describe was just of serenity and peace. The curse of the ageing population - as what Cher said.

And then, I thought to myself "I'll never be able to pen down such beautiful thoughts of a person, I'll never." Why? I haven't met with any deaths yet, except for my distant Godmother during the June holidays. I haven't met a death that seemed to be impactful to my life yet. I haven't lost someone that played a huge role in my life and that I could remember clearly of. I have very vague memories of my Godmother, except for the fact that she is a peranakan and hunches. From seeing her able to walk and then wheelchair bound. From her kissing me when I was young, till she doesn't when I was slightly older. Which then I stopped visiting her house because she apparently cared more about my niece and I was just wasting time down there. But when she left, she left. Which meant no more kisses and no more ignoring. No more of nothing.

And now, the sudden news of her passing away stunned me, stunned me enough to divert my attention from the TV which was playing some drama show to my Mom. The phonecall was a nasty one. The fact that she wanted to see me and parents for the last time made my heart cringed. The sadness was a different one - different from all the heartaches that you get in school. Different from all the discouragements you get from teachers and different from the sufferings you had to tolerate from the people you hated. It was like as if I lost a part of myself. I can't wait to see her again, but I don't wish to see her. I don't want to see such a her.

She was the only Auntie that spoke pretty loud. And the only Auntie that always talks to me in Hakka - although I never understand much. She was the only Auntie that I thought her white hair looked perfectly awesome on her. And the only Auntie that I enjoyed being with. Her kids are awesome. I love the family.

And then, I witness the selfishness of the human nature. Was a phonecall so difficult for you, my dear Uncle, to my call your elder brother, my father, despite instructions from her? I think so. Perhaps a cyclone hit your flat, that's why you couldn't call. It's okay. I totally understand your disastrous situation. Totally. And I do hope I don't have to see you later. People like you disgust me.

As much as I know Lit and Art are the only subjects left, by leaving my school work to attend the wake is already a very hasty and risky situation. But then again, personal failure or the last time to see someone dear before they're gone forever - which one would you choose? I think most of us would choose to fail on your own. I don't know. Perhaps the minority (or the majority) would think that seeing someone for the last time isn't important at all, people like you-know-who. Uncle would be there though.